


true love waits

by mishkinat



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Injury, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Multi, Students, a very fluffy ending, by the end, i depressed myself with the start of this, it was fluffy, seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 10:30:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9815852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mishkinat/pseuds/mishkinat
Summary: Grantaire opens his heart at a meeting, and Enjolras needs to process it.Starts with some minor angst, ends with some major fluff.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A one-shot for now, but I might work out a series of related one-shots that could be read as stand-alones. 
> 
> Please comment/kudos for more!

     "Enjolras," Grantaire sighed whilst taking the final swig from his bottle, "How do you stay so positive?"

"What do you mean?" Enjolras flinched. The way in which the words rolled off Grantaire's tongue sounded disgusted. If this were a new way of downplaying Enjolras's speeches, Enjolras was confused. It felt like an attack but it was subtle and so unlike Grantaire. 

Grantaire sat up in his chair and straightened his back. He drummed his fingers against each other whilst staring at the floor trying to formulate some type of argument. The rest of the Amis watched silently - it was just as strange for them as for Enjolras.

He finally spoke, "You talk so full of pride for the people, with a fiery hope for the future. Don't get me wrong, I fucking love it. I know we disagree a lot, but I'm sure you can at least recognise how much I admire you. It's no secret." Grantaire nodded in the direction of the other Amis. Courfeyrac coughed and tried earnestly to hide an outburst of laughter. Grantaire picked up on that and winked back at him. "But - and there is always a but with me - I believe it has more to do with the fact that you are a dreamer. How do you suppose that we will achieve  _anything_ that will benefit society when society demands to be ruined? Think about it. I was late to this meeting. You know why? The metro got delayed again because of some poor bastard jumping in front of a train. This has happened so many times over the years I have lost count. Isn't that fucking sad? Crowds jump to their deaths because they feel so hollow. Then there's me, Mr. Cynical, who's as hollow and broken as the next person who can't make it to a meeting about  _helping_ them because they ended it too soon. Far too soon. It seems like a never-ending cycle."

"That's why some people need to be strong. For others." Enjolras bit his lip.

"What and we are the people for that? Look at me, then. I know I'm an alcoholic who's pissing away any money I once had. It used to be enough to live comfortably. I put myself in this hole, but at least I can admit it. I'm a weak person - a coward, even. But I'm willing to bet so are most people. How the fuck am I supposed to be useful to you? I see no hope in anything. You think I'm worthless, a burden, a mess. You're right. I know that. But can you seriously blame me? After everything that has happened - and not just to me personally - all across the world. Do you know what that feels like?" Grantaire shook his head furiously. Normally a conversation like this would have him bursting into a rage, or into tears. This time he just felt...deflated, as if he could fall to the ground and seep into the floorboards with only a heavy heart remaining. 

Enjolras was silent. His eyes were fixated on the centre of the table with one hand repeatedly brushing through his wild curls. Grantaire examined this and drew another sigh and spoke so Enjolras didn't have to, 

"Okay. I get it. I see everything that happens in this world and I see how it is destructive and evil and hopeless. I see defeat in every corner and deprivation in every aspect of our society. I see giving up as the only plausible option. To be honest, I would live my last moments not surprised at all if they involved a great wave of everything wrong with the planet swept down to drown us all. I am doom and gloom personified. And you, well, you're the complete opposite. Christ, I have loved you with every ounce of my being since you first opened your mouth - again not a surprise," he nodded towards Courfeyrac once more, this time without eye contact, "- but was never entirely sure why. You enraged me too. I was so fucking angry at your optimism, it was just too much. Fuck. Now I get it. You  _do_ see the world just like me. Exactly like me. You just can't bare the weight of it on your chest so you shrug it off and look for hope instead. Fuck. Why are you so positive? Because it's just who you fucking are. Yes. I love you. Fuck it! I love you. You think I'm weak, cos I'm standing here shouting it and not doing anything about it." By the end of it Grantaire was rambling, he'd just made a huge fool of himself but it wasn't unusual for him to do so. Combeferre approached, unsure whether or not to lay a hand on his shoulder.

"Oh!" Grantaire shot his head up, looking directly into Enjolras's eyes this time, "That's why you think I'm a fool."

 

     The whole speech made Enjolras's heart crumble into pieces. By the end of it, his heart had sunken so low he couldn't tell if he had grown apathetic or so shaken that he couldn't control his emotions anymore. Both were terrifying prospects. The uttering of the word 'fool' would forever be burned into his memory like a painful brand. At this moment, Enjolras could break down in front of the entirety of the Amis. His heart beat faster at that and air became more and more difficult to take in. In a brief moment of confusion, Combeferre tilted his head and squinted before realising what was happening. He was about to leap right to Enjolras's side when, in a split instance, it was as if an energy overcame Enjolras and he was restored to his original position of confidence and a clear mind.

Combeferre was unsure if he had been the only one to notice the slight slip of Enjolras's mask, but he made a note to talk to Enjolras about it later. It gave him an terribly selfish joy to see Enjolras showing emotions - but an equally terrible pit in his stomach to see him hide them so painfully.

Enjolras ran a hand over his face and sank back down into his chair. He placed his face in both of his hands - a chance to block out everything for a moment and just  _think_. For the Amis, this was a rarer moment than Grantaire not outright savagely attacking Enjolras with his words. 

It was an almost tender moment, seeing Enjolras in such a state of vulnerability, but every member of the Amis took a step back - they would all try and be the first to run in case Enjolras burst out and started snarling viscious remarks at Grantaire. But nothing happened. Combeferre took this moment to step over to Enjolras and place a hand on his shoulder whilst Jehan ran a finger over his lips repeatedly, his heart thumping wildly in his chest.

"You fuckin' broke him." Bahorel whispered to Grantaire, with no malice in his voice; simply an urge to break the crushing silence.

" _NO!"_ Enjolras snarled, leaping out of his chair and slamming both hands down on the table. His chest heaved, fire burned in his eyes and his cheeks flushed with colour once more. And for a brief, life-draining moment, Bahorel was convinced he was about to be murdered.

"He did not _break me_. He spoke courageously. I should have known better." Enjolras slammed his fist down on the table again, cutting it as it sliced down the rough edges. He did not make a sound - but Joly did. A scream escaped the young man's lips followed by fast-paced footsteps leading directly to the toilets. Combeferre shared a knowing look with Enjolras before racing after him. 

Enjolras carried on, completely disregarding his bloody hand, "I have been the fool, Grantaire. I can admit it now. I am sorry."

 

There they were. The three words Grantaire never expected to hear seriously, and without prompt from Combeferre, come from Enjolras's lips. He could have fainted.

Enjolras took the seat beside him and took his hand. If Grantaire thought he would have fainted before, it was nothing compared to that moment. At that moment, Grantaire realised where hope came from.

"I see it now, R." Enjolras spoke in a low voice which Grantaire had never heard before, and he spoke with such sweetness he felt submerged in honey. "I love you."

These three words. Those three words. Grantaire came close to collapsing in pure euphoria. It was too much. He tugged at his hair in disbelief. 

"I swear to God, if your bullshi-" He stopped midsentence just to fully appreciate  _that_ look on Enjolras's face. It was angelic.

Grantaire let out a huge sob of pure emotion. Combeferre and Joly stepped back in, frantic to find out the source of that noise.

"What did I miss?" Combeferre asked, fear in his voice. The site of Grantaire sobbing was terrifying, "Enjolras, what did you _do_?" When he got no answer he glanced around at the rest of the room.

The rest of the Amis stood shocked, silent and in disbelief. Except for one. Courfeyrac stood in the centre and plastered across his face was the true definition of the phrase 'shit-eating grin'.  Courfeyrac stepped forward and skipped over to Combeferre, shaking and grinning from ear to ear. 

"I believe you owe me some money." Courfeyrac whispered. 

 

Enjolras, startled yet distressed by Grantaire's cries, embraced the man. Grantaire froze and began to laugh. It was a beautiful laugh, deep and sincere and Enjolras decided he would love to hear more of it. Grantaire returned the hug.

"Why are you crying?"

"Because I love you. And my waiting paid off."

Enjolras grinned. "I think it might be okay, for me to be a bit more human."


End file.
